You Might Forget Someday (to Hate Yourself)
by Ivydoll
Summary: It wouldn't be a sleepover at Tweek's without fighting the all-consuming doubt that his soft, squishy cafe body has any value. But Craig is, as always, up to the challenge. [creek]


"Craig. Craig. Wake up," the voice came from faraway, and also- very, very close by.

He startled, tipping the laptop that was balanced between their thighs; it almost knocked all the way off the bed, but Tweek slapped his hands down on it before it could escape. The main theme to their show started up again; the tenth or eleventh episode in the marathon, and they weren't even halfway through. Tweek laughed his nervous laugh and Craig stretched.

"Sorry. Did I fall asleep?" he asked, though he knew full well he had. Tweek pulled the laptop closer, shutting down Netflix and a writing program with his half-done history paper. Craig had finished his already, lifting most of the content from four or five obscure google searches.

"It's okay, we- we can re-watch the last one later. You didn't miss mu-uh-uh-ch," a toothy yawn spread his vowels wide, and Craig smiled.

"I can see your molars," he teased, taking the computer when Tweek huffed and shoved it his way. He let it slide gently to the floor.

Tweek yawned again and pulled his button-up over his head and off his arms; Craig watched with open interest, turning on his side to let his elbow prop into the pillows. "You have a coffee stain on your undershirt," he whispered in his conspiracy voice, low and sneaky.

"I have coffee stains on everything," Tweek glared, throwing himself back down into the pillow mountain they'd built that afternoon. "I can't help it."

"I know," Craig whispered, looking down into Tweek's green eyes and wondering how they had gotten this far. It seemed a blur, now, all of the years leading up to these sleepovers and dreamy talks of the future. He let his free hand wander across the curve of his boyfriend's tummy, chest, and shoulder. His caramel fingers brushed a pathway down Tweek's arm, through the fine blonde hairs on his forearm and then across the back of his small, sturdy hands.

The blonde's eyes shuttered under the attention, his whole body tuned tight to the familiar wandering of Craig's hand. He felt warm, with the exception of his shoulders. The chill from being exposed was creeping in, almost there.

He didn't like the heater on too much, not really, but blanket nests, yes.

Craig's hand with its long fingers and dark hairs dragged back down to his stomach and rested there. Tweek felt himself tense; it was an automatic reaction and it earned him a disapproving glance from the other boy in his bed.

"You're okay," Craig said, tone flat but kind. "Look."

He tugged the hem of Tweek's a-shirt upward until the swell of his tummy was fully exposed, stopping where it sloped back down toward his sternum. A lot of fancy coffees and fancier pastries, coupled with an inveterate hatred of the social miasma of gym classes. He knew what the problem was, but still- he liked to ignore it, to forget, if he could. For a long, agonizing moment Tweek watched Craig's face; his dark eyes were focused completely on Tweek's stomach, which he was trying very hard to relax. It was impossible hard, though, even with Craig's little smile.

"I know, I just…" he tried, squirming in place, hands going to the rumpled hem as if to push it back down. He knew he was turning red; it was hard not to feel embarrassed, and he was trying. But when he looked down all he saw was the enormity of the rise of his stomach.

Craig leaned over and kissed it, then, and Tweek tried not to cringe.

"Breathe and relax, okay? Just breathe."

More kisses fell down on skin; several around his belly button, more on the side that was easy for Craig to reach. He giggled helplessly when his boyfriend's hand tightened on his hip bone, sending a jolt of ticklishness across his nerve endings. Craig sighed, his breath crossing the plane of pale skin and disappearing into the pillows. "Oh, my god, you are so cute. Look how perfect you are."

He sat up to get better leverage. "I love your belly. You are a little chubby, but I really like that. It's really soft and kind of… squishy. I dunno. I like your belly button. And right here where your belly meets your shorts."

Craig pressed his fingers along the line where Tweek's grey boxer briefs stopped across his hips. "Really sexy," he murmured, glancing up to where Tweek was staring, arms held tight across his solar plexus.

"I… um… I know you... I just, I don't-" he took a deep breath, watching his stomach sink down as his lungs shuddered around the antsy feeling he couldn't quite name. "I should probably lose a little weight, right?"

Craig smiled, shaking his head. "If it would make you happy. If you did it in a healthy way. I love you either way. I love you just how you are."

There was another long pause as Tweek looked around the room; biting his lip and shrugging. He glanced at Craig's Bollywood cheekbones and the broad plane of his chest. His stomach wasn't flat beneath his tee shirt, but it was close.

"You- You look a lot better than me!" Tweek blurted, finally yanking the hem of his shirt down before covering his face. He twisted to the side, away from the other boy, and moaned out an apology. His heart raced for a moment, worry and shame rocketing through his body with nowhere to go. He started to tremble; he had to stop breathing, he had to keep it in, he had to stop. He was unacceptable, wrong, broken and worthless. The feeling looped three, four times, before he felt a hand on his back, smoothing his undershirt along his spine. Slowly, he began to breathe again, tracking the motion of Craig's stupid, beautiful hand. The feeling faded off. He took a very deep breath, and Craig hummed.

This had happened before. It would probably happen again. Craig shifted so he was crouched behind his adorable, misguided boyfriend. "Hey," he whispered, gently curling around Tweek's balled up frame, covering him. "You're stupid."

Tweek snorted, letting his hands drop, though they still shook, "No, you."

"Prove it."

Before Tweek could respond, Craig shoved himself against the other boy's back, draping himself more securely. His kissed the fold where Tweek's neck met his round shoulder, then squeezed him tightly. "Hey. I don't look better than you. I look different from you. You like how I look, right?"

"Yeah…" Tweek offered slowly; he slid his feet to the wall and pushed backward, trying to get as much coverage as possible. He wanted to spite his own embarrassment. "You're… really gorgeous."

"What about where my teeth are crowded?"

"That's cute, though."

"What about my big nose?"

"It's not that big! It's really, really cute!" Tweek tried turning to look more securely at the boy covering him, but Craig held him tight, still in a ball.

"I'm glad you think so," Craig kissed his shoulder, again, this time where a cluster of freckles sprayed across Tweek's light skin. He pressed tight against the other boy's back before sitting up, a monstrous yawn pulling at his jaw. "Oh, my god, I'm tired."

"Will you turn the light out?"

"Yeah," he yawned again, squeezing Tweek's arm. "Oh- oh my god."

"What?"

"Oh. My. God."

Tweek started to wriggle in alarm, onto his back, then struggled to sit up. "What? Do you see something? Did you hear something? What-"

Craig pinned him, rolling with ease in between Tweek's soft thighs. He stared at Tweek and his half panicked face for a long moment, enjoying the torment. Finally he grasped his boyfriend's pliant cheeks between his palms. "Your eyes. Are so. Green."

"Craig," the blonde steamed, pushing with token irritation. But his eyes were crinkled with unconcealed delight, overtaking his worry and irritation the way a little prank and an earnest compliment could sometimes do.

"The greenest. Exactly the color of grass. Like a meadow," Craig went on, stretching his neck to reach kisses across Tweek's upturned nose and long brown eyelashes. He squished the other boy's cheeks one more time for emphasis then gestured in a broad arc, "Unicorns daaancing across your eyes, they're so green."

He wanted to say more, so much more. But Tweek was sensitive and suspicious, and this was a battle they could fight another time. With a heave, he rolled back out of their nest and made for the light.

The room went dark and he shuffled back, yawning the whole way. He almost missed it- the slither soft sound of fabric hitting the floor.

"Um," Tweek's voice floated to him in the dark, the sound small and careful and tremulous in the space between them. "You- You could. Um."

Craig found the edge of the bed and reached for the quaking origin of sound. He met soft, cool skin, bare to the waist. Letting his hand trace down Tweek's arm and to his hip, he murmured, "You took your shirt off?"

He felt the movement of Tweek nodding, of him fidgeting in place. With a low sigh he went barreling into Tweek's side without thinking. This was birthday, snow day, summer vacation, Christmas. The bestgift. His boyfriend's voice warbled with irritation, "You could t-take your shirt off, too. You know."

Craig grinned and pulled off his tee, sending it across the room. He heard it hit the bird cage, but Chino stayed sleeping. He listened for another moment to Tweek breathing, soft, familiar- and then he was all over. He pulled Tweek close and wound his arms tight around the other boy's back, manhandling him up and onto his chest. His skin was cool and soft, and Craig chafed his hands across the span of Tweek's shoulder blades and love handles and the dimples above his tailbone.

He was aware, personally and in an abstract way, that he was attractive enough for someone who put in zero effort. He was tall and trim- had nice hair. It wasn't as though he loved the strong nose he must have gotten from his real father, or the way his hair parted, or his fucked up teeth. But he could be realistic. If only he could get Tweek to accept at least that much about himself, just to be realistic. Just to see himself in as glowing a light as he saw Craig. All he could say was, "Oh, my god, you're so hot. I'm so happy."

"You're such a dork," Tweek griped, letting himself get rolled against Craig's bony torso. He splayed his hand against his boyfriend's dark collar bones, spreading his pale fingers as far as they would go (they really were just different, weren't they? Right? Different, but still good…?). Craig was pulling the covers tight around them, like a cocoon. He was trying very hard to relax, and Craig yawning into his hair was a nice reminder that everything was fine. Everything was okay. He took a deep breath and rolled to the side, settling against Craig's ribs. He curled up like an expert, with quick, efficient movements- pulling a pillow under his neck so he could rest his cheek on Craig's chest and drawing up his knees to hide them under his boyfriend's thighs.

"You're warm," he mumbled, tucking his arms against his bare chest. With a snicker he added, "And hot."

A squeeze. "You, too."

There was one last very long pause in the dark; a hanging, waiting thing, nervous and unfinished. Finally, Tweek exhaled, relaxing his tummy, "…Okay."


End file.
